


The Window

by naughty_sock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Bestiality, Come Inflation, Cunnilingus, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Other, Overstimulation, Rimming, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughty_sock/pseuds/naughty_sock
Summary: Fang trod over and rested his muzzle on the edge of the seat. He whined and wuffed, his body agitated, and when Hermione reached out to scratch his ears, he put his forelegs onto the chair and licked her exposed knee.





	The Window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dresca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dresca/gifts).



 

Hermione bit down on her bottom lip to keep in the moan that threatened to escape her. Leaning her forehead against the window frame of Hagrid's hut, she widened her stance and shoved her fingers deeper into her cunt. Her breath fogged the glass, and she withdrew incrementally until the pane cleared again, impatient for the sight that was momentarily obscured. Next to her, Hagrid's giant boarhound, Fang, whined softly.

A week ago, the rising threat of Volemort and Harry's search for the Horcruxes had left Hermione once again tossing and turning in her bed with worry and anger and a mind full of unsolved puzzles. It had been well past midnight when she'd finally given up on sleep and dragged herself out of bed. And even though it was not only forbidden, but also dangerous to walk the grounds at night, Hermione had hoped that a little fresh air would clear her head.

She'd been half way down the path to the Great Lake, when Fang had come bounding her way, and, seeing a light still burning in Hagrid's hut, she had turned towards it, thinking she might pay him a visit.

However, this plan had been abandoned the moment she'd glanced through the window. For, beyond the half-drawn curtains, Hermoine had seen Hagrid, slumped back in his armchair, his hand fisted around the giant column of his cock. Eyes wide and mouth suddenly paper dry, Hermione had frozen on the spot. A tiny gasp had escaped her lips, and a sudden wave of liquid heat had shivered through her, pooling deep between her legs.

Wetting her lips, she had drawn closer.

Reclining before the fireplace, his boots spaced a shoulder-width apart, Hagrid had worked his cock with hard, sure strokes. The bulbous tip had swayed on every down stroke, and Hermione had pressed her thighs together, her clit aching with the sudden need for friction. She'd never given much thought to Hagrid's half-giant ancestry, but seeing the sheer size of the veined cock in his grasp had made her light-headed. A wanton, heady hunger had thundered through her, and she'd trembled, wondering how the rigid length would feel inside of her.

With a shaky breath, she'd positioned herself at the edge of the window and had hitched up her robes. Pushing her knickers aside, her fingers had found her slit, already wet and throbbing. Without preamble, she'd rubbed her thumb against the hooded cluster of hyper-sensitive nerves while thrusting two fingers deep inside of her. She'd had little fear of being seen, though the idea had been enticing. But the darkness surrounding her (and Hagrid's laser focus on the workings of his hand) had prevent her discovery.

Inside the hut, the firelight had thrown eerie shadows across Hagrid's face, giving the intensity of his half-lidded stare an almost sinister look, and that, too, had excited her. She'd imagined herself beneath him, his giant body towering above her as he bore down, spreading her open so wide it would surely be unbearable. There would be pain, she'd known, but instead of shying away from the knowledge, Hermione's entire body had convulsed with pleasure. Her breath shortening to muffled gasps, she'd watched as Hagrid had increased his pace, his strokes losing their rhythm – becoming erratic. Within seconds, she'd come, her eyes closing tightly as shudders racked through her.

By the time she'd caught her breath and looked back through the window, Hagrid had been on his feet, and her regret at having missed his finish was overcome by alarm as he'd stridden towards the door. Stumbling backwards, she'd turned and run around the corner, the sound of creaking hinges flooding her with dread. But to her relief, he'd only called Fang back inside, and shortly thereafter, the door had closed again, leaving Hermione slumped safely against the wall.

She'd returned every night since then, always after midnight, watching from a tower window until Hagrid let Fang roam the grounds, and taking that as her cue to sneak outside.

She spent her evenings fantasising about being caught, about standing outside the window with her fingers buried between her legs, panting, desperate, her gasps just a little too loud, and him looking up, his dark, dark gaze drilling into hers as his hand flexed around his cock. And then, he'd stand before her, while she still recovered from the shock, his body impossibly tall and _massive_ and his cock exposed, the length dripping with precome and looking so hard, so very _fucking hard,_ that just the thought of it made Hermione's knees go weak.

“Turn around,” he'd say, and she would quiver with anticipation.

She always stopped it there, holding on to the images inside her head until she strode across the grass, her thighs slick with arousal, and her blood humming with a feverish need that seemed to grow with every passing day. She didn't bother wearing underwear anymore.

Tonight, as she watched Hagrid work his purple flesh in a double-fisted grip, she lifted one of her knees onto the log pile next to the window to give herself better access. Even though his hands were intimidatingly large and strong, his fingers barely met as they encircled his cock. He pulled his length hard towards himself, his hips snapping upward. A shallow spurt of come fell off the tip. Her nose bumping against the pane of glass, Hermione watched it drip onto his hand. Fascinated, she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

The urge to lean forward and lick it off was overwhelming, and, with effort, she suppressed a needy whimper. Shoving another finger into her pussy barely alleviated the need that coiled and twisted inside her abdomen, and she worked herself harder and faster, rubbing herself raw until she crested hard and long and trembling.

Fighting to stay upright, she braced her hands against the log pile. Her lip bled where she'd bitten it, and her tongue darted out to taste the blood. A glance through the window showed that Hagrid had not finished, yet. Struggling for composure, Hermione leaned forward to watch. She kept her knee on the log pile, enjoying the cold night air that whispered along her heated skin. It was a gentle, sensuous caress that soothed her overly stimulated nerve endings, and she briefly closed her eyes, allowing her restless mind a moment's peace.

A moan from inside made them snap open again.

Hagrid was writhing on the armchair, his head thrown back, his mouth open. Even from this distance, Hermione could see the pressure he exerted on his cock. He was not gentle with himself, and the sight of him abusing himself so roughly flooded Hermione with renewed desire. Worrying at her tender lip, she felt the muscles in her thighs draw tight, and her hips curved forward of their own volition. Her hands clenched around the widow ledge as her pussy rubbed up against something warm and wet.

Startled, she looked down, her hips instinctively snapping back.

Fang looked up at her with steady eyes and lolling tongue.

He had wedged his body between Hermione and the wall, and as her brain still tried to make sense of how he'd gotten there without her noticing, the giant boarhound leaned forward and licked his tongue along her cunt.

Inhaling sharply, Hermione's hands flew to his head, trying to shove him away, but having gotten a taste of her, Fang hungrily pushed against her in turn. Hermione almost lost her balance as his weight fell against her standing leg, and instead of pushing him away, she had to hold on to him for balance. By then, Fang's board, flat tongue was lapping eagerly along her folds, and Hermione's eyes crossed from the sheer, filthy pleasure of it.

“Oh god,” she gasped, knowing she should push him away, but it felt so good, so incredibly, _sinfully_ _good_ that she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, her hips bucked against his muzzle, eliciting a muffled _"wuff"_ as Fang dug in deeper, his nose rubbing against her clit as he pushed his tongue inside of her. Hermione clapped a hand across her mouth to keep from screaming. Pleasure wound around her, constricting her throat, her chest, her belly; and the knowledge – the full knowledge – of what she allowed Fang to do to her ran through her like a lightning bolt. Her hand clenched around his collar as she pulled him further into the apex of her thighs, far too caught up in her pleasure to care how utterly, unspeakably wrong this was.

Panting, she raised her eyes back towards the window as the boarhound ate her out. Hagrid's body was stretched out and tense atop the armchair. His eyes were closed, and his arms were straining with the effort to hold his hands steady as he snapped his hips up roughly, fucking into his fists with an erratic abandon that short-circuited Hermione's brain. With the sight of Hagrid before her, and Fang's tongue buried inside of her, Hermione came so hard she saw stars before her eyes.

###

She barely slept that night, her mind in turmoil and her body reeling with the aftershocks of pleasure that Hagrid's dog had drawn from her. Just the memory of his muzzle between her legs made her stomach muscles clench, and she spent a breathless hour in a broom cupboard that day, reliving the scene inside her head. The orgasm she coaxed out of her body – four fingers shoved as deep into her pussy as they would go – was barely enough to take the edge off.

After spending a seemingly interminable wait lying in her bed and willing her room mates to fall asleep faster, she wriggled out of her undergarments, put on her cloak and boots and all but ran down the stairs. It was not yet midnight, and she had no idea how long she'd have to wait before Hagrid would release his hound, but sitting quietly in the castle turret, waiting, was beyond her tonight.

She wanted to watch Hagrid stroke his giant cock again... imagine that she'd have the nerve to enter his dwelling and touch that hard, hot length of flesh, to taste it and rub it between her breasts – teasing him, torturing him, until he couldn't take it anymore – until he bent her over his table and fucked her so hard that she couldn't walk straight for a week after. And when he was done with her, when she'd sunken to the floor, trembling and exhausted, he would hold her down and call Fang over, so the hound could have his way with her, rutting into her until he'd spent himself, leaving Hermione breathless and near broken on the floor, her body nothing but a boneless mess of pleasure.

Hermione stumbled as the scene played out in her mind. She caught herself, dizzy and aroused – so painfully aroused that she could barely walk on. She reached Hagrid's hut, and paused, struggling for composure.

The windows were dark.

Disappointment settling heavily in her stomach, she looked around. The grounds stretched silent and empty from the castle to the forest. She cautiously approached the window and peered inside. Embers glowed faintly in the fireplace, casting barely enough light for her to see the edge of the empty armchair and the rug in front of it. Hagrid wasn't home.

She was deliberating on what to do next, when she heard a quiet bark beyond the door. A stab of excitement lanced through her, and, throwing caution to the wind, Hermione approached the door. It was unlocked, and she pushed it open with ease. Fang was standing directly behind it, his large body ambling reluctantly out of the way, until Hermione had stepped inside. Then he greeted her in his usual, exuberant manner, leaving sloppy kisses on her face as she tried to keep him from barrelling her over.

“Down,” she chastised him softly, then scratched his head as he came to stand in front of her. “Good boy.”

His muzzle nosed against her crotch, and Hermione felt a thrill run through her. “Not now,” she said quietly and pushed him away, mindful that Hagrid might return at any moment. She went to the fireplace and stoked the flames, adding kindling and logs until a roaring blaze illuminated the hut.

Her eyes were drawn to the armchair. Standing in front of it, it appeared enormous, large enough for two people of her size to sit with space between them, but she recalled with vivid clarity how Hagrid filled out every inch between the armrests, his girth and weight causing the wood to creak and groan with every thrust of his hips. Her fingers clenching at the memory, Hermione sat down and sank into the cushions. She scooted backwards until her feet no longer reached the floor and ran her hands along the fabric. It was rough and threadbare beneath her palms and should not feel enticing, but she only had to imagine the coarse weave rubbing against her breasts as her body was pressed face down into the seat by Hagrid's weight, for her pussy to get soaking wet.

Leaning back, she pulled her legs up and kicked off her boots.

Hermione knew that she was playing with fire, but it was too cold to wait outside until Hagrid returned, and Harry, Ron, and she had spent too many evenings in Hagrid's hut for him to find her sudden appearance remarkable. She was fishing for a suitable excuse why she had come here, when Fang trod over and rested his muzzle on the edge of the seat. He whined and wuffed, his body agitated, and when Hermione reached out to scratch his ears, he put his forelegs onto the chair and licked her exposed knee. Swallowing hard, Hermione glanced nervously at the door. She wanted to spread her legs for Fang... wanted him lapping at her clit, pushing inside her, deeper and deeper, until she writhed and begged and screamed with mindless pleasure, but the thought of Hagrid walking in on them was as exciting as it was terrifying.

On the other hand, it wouldn't take long. She was already so keyed up that Fang would push her over the edge within minutes, and what were the odds really, that Hagrid would return in time to witness her depravity?

Anticipation twisting her stomach into knots, she made up her mind and pulled up her robes. Fang was pushing against her eagerly, his broad nose sniffing out her scent, and the moment Hermione opened her legs to him, he was on her, licking a rough path from her entrance to her clit. His breath was hot against her skin, and she could feel the press of his teeth against her flesh, but he did not bite her. Instead, he shifted restlessly trying to get onto the armchair while he licked his tongue inside of her. Hermione gasped as a deep, long growl rumbled through his chest. Her hands fisted around his collar, and her head fell back against the cushion.

She pulled her knees up and draped her ankles over the armrests. And then she watched – watched the giant dog eat her out, watched the muscles shift and tense beneath his fur as he pushed his tongue into her, so evidently ravenous for the taste of her arousal that Hermione trembled with every undulation of the long, rough muscle inside her body. She panted, hitched her legs higher, wanting him deeper, wanting him harder, and all the while she hurtled headlong toward a climax that would shatter her.

Digging her shoulders into the cushion, she arched her spine and wriggled down to the edge of the seat. She pulled hard at the studded leather around his neck, and, suddenly, Fang was on top of her, his weight pressing her down and his fur rubbing against her aching nipples. Hermione tried to draw breath as the massive dog curved his spine and gathered his haunches beneath him. She could feel his cock slide between her legs, the flesh hot and wet and rigid. In the back of her mind, she felt a fleeting sense of shame, but she pushed it away. She wanted this. She wanted him inside her so badly.

Fang thrust against her, and the wet tip of his cock skittered across her stomach. Reaching down, Hermione wrapped her hand around his length and used her legs to push him back. Fang whined and growled and thrust into her hand, his body trembling with the same carnal need that tore at her, and in a moment, Hermione had lined up their bodies, and Fang's next thrust went home. His cock speared her, and he buried himself to the hilt. Hermione cried out, her whole body shaking under the force of the sudden intrusion.

She arched her back, panting and restless as she struggled to adjust to the dog's girth. She'd never impaled herself on anything as large as him, but the boarhound drove himself into her relentlessly, seeking his own pleasure. The knowledge that the animal's instinct left no room for consideration toward her – that she was at his mercy as he fucked her roughly and with singular determination – sent Hermione over the edge. She came hard, stomach muscles clenching, a guttural cry tearing up her throat.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as the dog thrust and thrust and thrust, his powerful leg muscles forcing his cock into her cunt over and over without mercy. She could hear the sound of their mating, a wet, slapping sound that was downright obscene. It reverberated through her, setting every nerve ending on fire. Fang drove into her relentlessly, his cock reaming her open and filling her up just to the point where pleasure met pain. And then she felt his knot push into her and out again so fast that she quivered against the sudden pressure.

Her breath hitched as she felt it again, bigger this time, and bigger still on the next thrust that shook her body. “Oh god,” she moaned helplessly as Fang shoved it into her with a thrust so hard it almost pushed her across the edge again. The sensation was exquisite agony. She felt the knot tear at her tender muscles as it popped out of her with a sucking noise, and then Fang gathered himself above her, his muscles quivering with exertion and his next thrust make her cry out in pain as he forced it back into her body, and it felt so big and hard and hot that Hermione knew it would not be dislodged on the backstroke.

She didn't care. Pain turned to pleasure in an instant as the boarhound continued to fuck her senseless. Her legs jerked, muscle spasms running through her as he shifted inside her, his knot pressing against her nerve endings in just the right way. Hermione moaned shamelessly as the pressure build behind her eyelids. She threw her head back and held on to Fang, forcing her hips up against his massive body with a whimper, when Hagrid's voice suddenly thundered through the room.

“Bloody hell. Fang! Fang, get off 'er, yeh awful beast,” he shouted.

Her eyes flying open, Hermione saw Hagrid striding towards them, his eyes impossibly wide, his hand reaching for Fang's collar.

“Don't,” she pleaded, wrapping herself around the beast. “Don't make him stop. Please, Hagrid. _Don't_ make him stop.” Her voice was breathless and tight, and she was _so close._ “It feels so good.” She moaned as she stretched beneath the boarhound's body, seeking the friction of his fur against her skin. “You have no idea, Hagrid. So incredibly good.”

A keening sound tore out of her as Fang pushed and pushed with mindless ferocity, and then she came, her body shuddering uncontrollably with the sheer force of her release. Fang huffed as her muscles constricted around his cock. He redoubled his efforts, the pressure of his knot sending delicious shivers through her abdomen, until, finally, his whole body stiffened, and she could feel the hot flood of his come spilling into her.

Hands fisting in her hair, Hermione tried to catch her breath, which became considerably easier once Fang lifted himself off her. Sated, the boarhound turned away before she could hold on to him, and she scrambled upwards trying to prevent him from tearing his knot out of her.

Hagrid was faster. He caught Fang by his collar and held him steady as he regarded her, shock still evident on his face.

Hermione let herself fall back into the cushion. She knew that she should feel ashamed and awkward and mortified, but she didn't. Instead, she met Hagrid's gaze defiantly. “I wanted this,” she said quietly.

Hagrid swallowed convulsively. “So yeh said” he replied, and Hermione saw his eyes wander from her face down her body.

Instinctively, she trailed her hands over her exposed skin, fondling her breasts and smoothing a path down her stomach to her thighs. Her fingertips brushed against her mound, and a flush stole up her body as she saw Hagrid's gaze follow her movements. She dug her nails into the moist flesh and pushed lower past her labia where Fang's cock still rested inside her. She hissed as the pad of her index finger grazed her clitoris, the bundle of nerves impossibly tender, and her back arched involuntarily.

“'ermione.” Hagrid nearly chocked on her name, and the deep, rough cadence of his voice flooded her with warmth.

“I've been watching you,” she said breathlessly. “Through that window over there. I watched you stroke that great, big cock of yours. Every night for the past week. And Fang has kept me company.” Her eyes fixated on the growing bulge inside his trousers. “I wanted to touch it, Hagrid. I wanted to touch you so badly, I couldn't stay away.”

His eyes shuttered, Hagrid wet his lips. “Tha' was mighty naught you yeh, Hermione,” he said, his voice dipping even lower.

Hermione held her breath as he fell to one knee beside her and splayed his hand across her stomach; it was big enough to cover her entire abdomen. He rubbed her belly, which Hermione only now noticed was slightly rounded, and she gasped as she realized just how much come Fang had spurted into her.

“Did yeh touch yerself?” he asked her quietly as the friction from his callouses sent tiny sparks along her skin.

Hermione's hands fisted in the fabric beneath her. Her body surged up against his caress. “Yes,” she confessed wantonly. “I fucked myself right outside your window, Hagrid. But it wasn't enough. I wanted you inside me. Please, Hagrid, I _need you_ inside me.”

She lifted her hips, desperate for friction in spite of her recent climax, and Fang's knot slipped out of her with a wet suction sound. His seed dripped out of her cunt as Hagrid released his collar, and the boardhound curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Hermione gasped in wonder. “There's so much of it.”

Hagrid nodded. “He 'as a big load.” Then he looked at her, his eyes stormy and intense. “'course, 's not as big as mine.”

Hermione swallowed hard, her eyes going wide. Her abdominal muscles clenched almost painfully with renewed arousal.

Hagrid's thick fingers dipped between her legs and covered her mound possessively. Then he pushed a digit inside her, and Hermione arched against the intrusion hoping to push him deeper. Fang's cock had not been much bigger than this, and the thought of Hagrid taking her like this, adding finger after finger until she was stretched open and full to the brim was enough to send her over the edge again. She spasmed around him, her fingers finding and twisting her nipples to prolong the pleasure.

“Cor, Hermione,” Hagrid cursed and retrieved his hand. It was coated with her and Fang's mingled juices. He shifted restlessly, freed his cock from his trousers and began to stroke it hard and fast.

Fascinated, Hermione watched as his flesh darkened with the inflow of blood, then forced her tired muscles to move. She slipped to the floor and wrapped her hands around his length before he could stop her. Her tongue flicked eagerly across the head, and Hagrid's body jerked, a rumbling growl rolling through his massive chest.

His cock felt hot against her palms, the rigid column soft on the surface, but hard as steel beneath the skin. It was too big to fit inside her mouth, and her fingers weren't long enough to wrap around it. She sucked on the tip and ran her tongue along the opening she found there, which drew a low moan from Hagrid's throat.

“Take a good look, 'ermione,” he murmured in a low voice. Kneeling next to him – her body naked, her pussy wet and aching, and him towering above her – his words seemed shockingly intimate. “You like 'ow big it is, don't yeh?” He was panting now, the fast and steady movement of her hands making him shudder.

Squirming lewdly, Hermione pressed her thighs together. “Yes,” she breathed, her tongue tasting the underside of his head.

“It will hurt you. Nothing I can do about that.”

She wrapped her lips around the bulging tip and moaned at the idea of it.

His low, rumbling laugh filled the space between them. “You would like that, wouldn't yeh?”

“I'd love it,” she panted leaning forward and pressing her small breasts against either side of his cock. “I'd beg you to go harder.”

Hagrid lifted her with a suddenness that made her yelp. Her weight was nothing to him as he turned and sank into the armchair, settling her on top of him. His large hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs circling the sensitive nubs that hardened even further. A tremor ran through her, the friction against her nipples shivering through every muscles, vein, and tendon. No sooner had she braced her hands against his stomach, than she felt his shaft settle against her cunt.

Moaning unabashedly, she rocked herself along the hot, hard length of him, coating him in the sticky liquid of Fang's come. Breathless, she reached down and wrapped a hand around the giant column to guide him into her. Her heart hammered like a wild thing in her chest. She sank down and winced as his thickness spread her open. It hurt, and more so as she sank lower, forcing the giant tip inside of her. Tiny sparks ran along her synapses, flooding her with staggered waves of unbearable heat, turning the pain into pleasure bit by agonizing bit. As Hagrid gently rocked up into her, she bent forward and pushed harder until a sob tore out of her. Even slick and aching with arousal as she was, she could not fit him on her own.

She whimpered. "Help me. Please, Hagrid. Help me make it fit. I need you so badly, I can't bear it.” She squirmed above him, trying to force his cock inside her just one more glorious inch. Her pussy stretched around the tip, her tender muscles burning with the strain, but she couldn't stop. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. “Please,” she begged, almost sobbing with need. “Ram it into me. All of it. Don't stop. Even if I beg and cry and scream, I want you to fuck me so hard, so ruthlessly hard, that I'll feel you inside me for days.”

Roused by her words, Hagrid's hips spasmed below her. He cursed and grasped her thighs in a bruising grip. “With a pussy as small as yours, you'll feel me inside yeh for weeks, little witch.” he said, gruffly. “Are yeh sure, 'ermione? I need yeh to be sure, 'cause I can't stop meeself much longer.”

Her hands fisting in his beard, Hermione rocked herself against him mindless with desire.

“Yes,” she gasped, and Hagrid surged up into her.

Hermione cried out as he forced himself inside her, inch by torturous inch. Her hands clenched, tearing at him, but Hagrid paid her no heed. He pushed her down relentlessly, forcing her cunt to take his punishing girth with unrestrained force. Hermione sobbed and keened, squirming above him, and begged him not to stop. It hurt so good, so amazingly, unbelievably good, that she could barely breathe. Her body convulsed before he even bottomed out inside of her, and Hagrid cursed and shuddered as her walls clenched around him.

Long before she regained her senses, breathless and stretched to her very limit, Hagrid slipped his hands around her ass and snapped his hips up in a brutal thrust that buried him to the hilt inside her body, his balls slapping at her tender flesh. He did not allow her any reprieve, instead he set to fucking her, his hands clenching over her ass cheeks as he pulled her pussy up and down his shaft in a punishing rhythm. Hermione could only hold on helplessly, her muscles fluttering erratically as she lay atop him.

“So tight,” Hagrid crooned darkly. “So fucking hot and tight. I ne'er fucked as pussy as tight as yours, 'ermione. Wish you'd walked in when yeh first saw me last week. I coulda fucked that tender pussy all night.”

Hermione shivered at his words, but she could not answer. Her brain was too consumed with lust to string a sentence together. She was sprawled limp and panting across Hagrid's chest, her cunt filled with every inch of his enormous cock as shudder after shudder wrecked her, body and soul.

“Yes, Hermione,” he grunted and increased his pace as he neared his own climax, “work those tight little muscles. Yer doing well, so fucking well. I'm gonna to fill you up, now. Make you all full and tight and achin' with the pressure of it. Hold on, little witch. Gonna make you feel so good. So fuckin' good.”

Hermione gasped, rousing herself and arching her back to take him even deeper. “Oh, please,” she begged, her voice hoarse from uncountable screams. Her fingernails clawed at his clothes as he slammed into her, the friction of his cock against her abused and tender walls rubbing her raw. She sucked in a desperate breath, and then he came, spurting his seed into her womb, filling her with wave after wave of his hot come, until her belly distended with the sheer volume of jizz he poured into her.

Hermione shuddered and followed him across the edge, her mind numb with bliss and ecstasy. She lay unmoving, a doll that had it's strings cut, as her body slowly came down from the highs to which Hagrid had pushed her. Listening to his steady breath as his hands covered her ass was oddly comforting, and it took her a long while before she realized that something was wrong.

“Hagrid,” she finally managed to say when she found her voice. “Why are you still hard?”

“Because I'm half-giant, 'ermione, and that sweet and tender cunt of yours is so much better than my fist. Gonna have to fill you up a few more times, 'fore I'm done with yeh.”

Hermione's heart stopped. “A few...” she chocked on the words as her brain shut down trying to make sense of it. “A few more times?” she finally managed to get out.

“Aye, little witch. We're just getting started.” Hagrid squeezed her ass, and Hermione whimpered.

“Oh god,” she whispered her voice small as tiny aftershocks shivered through her. “That's too much. I can't take that. I'm already so full and sore, this would...” she clenched her teeth trying to deny the thrill of anticipation that took hold of her. “This would break me.”

Hagrid looked down at her with a knowing smile. “Yeh sure about that? I can make it feel real good, Hermione. Even better than before.”

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed and breathless. “Better?” she asked faintly, wondering if she would actually pass out at any moment.

“Aye.” Hagrid lifted himself and bend over her small frame. The movement forced his cock further into her tender cunt, and Hermione winced as a spark ran from her clitoris to her toes. His hand reaching beneath her, he lifted her up and coated his fingers in the sticky mass of come that poured out of her. Then he forced her down again, plucking her up with the full girth of his monstrous cock and pressed his fingers between her ass cheeks.

Hermione forced a shaky breath into her lungs as he rubbed his seed into her anal passage, his fingers circling the tight hole before dipping into it. She squirmed, overwhelmed by the sensation. “Oh god,” she breathed, bucking against his hand, which wrecked her stretched pussy with a heady mixture of pleasure and pain.

But Hagrid did not continue his ministrations. Instead, he called for Fang, and as Hermione looked across her shoulder, Hagrid placed his hands on both her cheeks and pulled them apart, presenting her to the boardhound. The giant dog had sprung to his feet at the invitation and immediately dove in, his cool, moist muzzle pressing into her soft ass as his tongue lapped at the come that dripped from her swollen, tender lips.

“There's a reason I throw him out when I fuck meeself,” Hagrid explained as Hermione threw her head back and moaned. “He's a horny little bugger. Always wants in on the action.”

Shifting restlessly, Hermione pushed back against Fang's tongue, heedless of the painful pleasure that build inside her pussy.

“That's it, 'ermione. Good girl. Let him have his treat. I told yeh, I could make yeh feel good, didn't I? We'll take good care of you, Fang and I. We'll fuck you into the ground, if yeh let us. Fill up that tight little pussy of yours until yeh beg us to stop.”

Hermione panted, her belly growing tight.

Hagrid nodded and surged into her, tearing a wrecked, hoarse, animalistic sound from her throat. “I thought yeh might like that. Now, try and catch yer breath, little witch, and then Fang and I, we'll break yeh in properly.”


End file.
